


Letting It Out

by Elayna



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Pandemic - Freeform, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: Even when you're doing well overall, living in a pandemic is hard. It's good to have someone who knows what you need.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42
Collections: Con*Strict 2020 Virtual Zine





	Letting It Out

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to [The Mighty Quinn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/186395) and [Lesson In Sin City](https://archiveofourown.org/works/186382), though I think could be read as a stand-alone. 
> 
> This fic may be cathartic or stressful; I hope the former, but I'll warn for the possibility of the latter. Hugs to all my ConStrict peeps, so many of whom I met through the Master_Apprentice list and our shared love of Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan. I have strayed away from my first boys, but it feels right to return to them now.

"Ffffuuuucccckkkkkkkkk!!!!!!" Ben screamed out, letting the sound emerge from the bottom of his lungs, fill his whole body, and explode into the enclosed air of the studio. He panted a bit from the endorphins created by the release of stress, and did it again, louder and longer. 

"Ffffffuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkkk!!!!!" 

He collapsed on the ground, letting himself fall back, grateful that Quinn had covered the floors of his woodshop with old rugs to help cushion sound. He stared at the ceiling, also well covered with acoustic tile to block the noise of Quinn's drilling and sawing from the neighbors. 

"Ben?" 

"Shit." Ben scrambled to flip over and stand up, turning to face Quinn standing in the doorway. "You heard." 

"Yes," Quinn said, calmly and simply. He looked…well, he looked fabulous, because he always did. His hair was silver and straight, longer now that it hadn't been trimmed in three months. His shoulders were wide, his muscles firm, and he wore a white t-shirt and gray sweats. Ben was similarly clad, as neither of them dressed up these days. 

"I'm sorry," Ben said automatically. The look in Quinn's blue eyes was so kind and understanding, but also a little hurt. "I just—" needed to scream my fucking head off, and might have a couple of more times if you hadn't interrupted, couldn't you have stayed in the house a bit longer? 

"You didn't feel that you could talk to me about whatever is bothering you?" 

Ben's laugh was bitter. "All we do is talk. And talk some more about how everything is screwed up and what the scientists have learned and all we don't know and what a shit job the government is doing and all the other problems that need to be fixed in this country. And—fuck." He paced in the small room. Quinn had been a carpenter before becoming a porn star, and always kept it as a hobby, making custom furniture or refinishing damaged antiques. His woodshop had been unexpectedly useful once the pandemic had hit and they were essentially trapped in the house. It was the one place Ben could be sure that neither Quinn nor the neighbors would hear his screams. "I don't even know what I want to say most of the time." 

"Have you been hiding your fears from me? Are we back to where you feel younger and less mature and need to hide your lack of confidence from me?" 

"Yes. I guess so," Ben admitted. How could he say he was afraid of dying, that he was even more afraid of Quinn dying? How could he admit the fears that weighed so heavily on his mind, especially to Quinn, always so competent and calm Quinn? 

Relationships were hard, and no one had told Ben that the same stupid problems could pop up over and over again, even after 18 years together. 

"Not entirely," he added. "I mean, yes, I've always felt I wanted to live up to you, you're older and wiser and—fuck." He shoved his hands in his hair, so shaggy after three months without a cut. "But also even if I wasn't with you, I'd be feeling that I should be able to deal. I have a job I can do from home; I have health care; I'm not essential services...I'm doing the best that anyone is now. I should be able to handle this. I should be able to cope." 

Quinn stepped further into the room, sitting down in his beat-up swivel chair, legs spread wide. "We're all having trouble dealing." 

"Really?" Ben let himself collapse to the floor again, between Quinn's legs, facing away from him but resting his head against one of Quinn's thighs. "Because you always seem to deal exceptionally well with everything." 

"You know I'm not perfect," Quinn said, stroking Ben's hair. 

"Perfect to me," Ben mumbled into the soft cotton fabric of Quinn's sweatpants, rubbing his cheek on the solid muscles of his thigh. "I almost wish that bdsm worked for us." 

They'd tried it a few times, because with Quinn's background as a porn star, it had felt natural to try pretty much everything sexual. They'd both enjoyed some aspects, because Quinn did have a tendency to be domineering, and Ben loved to submit, but the lifestyle had simply not taken for them. 

"Why?"

Ben twisted a little, tilting his head to look into Quinn's eyes. "Because right now it doesn't seem like such a bad thing, if you made me be naked and not think for a couple of hours. Maybe a few weeks. Or until this is over?" he finished hopefully. 

"If I thought that would help you, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I don't." Quinn caressed Ben's lower lip with the pad of his thumb. 

Ben's tongue darted out, wrapping around Quinn's thumb, giving it a few hard sucks, satisfied at how quickly Quinn's erection hardened in his sweatpants. "No, I don't either." He pushed himself up, facing Quinn and straddling him, his legs draped over Quinn's thighs, his arms resting on Quinn's broad shoulders. "I don't know what would help," he admitted. "Sometimes when you're busy, I come in here and scream. You…never want to scream?"

Quinn's lips twisted in a wry smile. "You may have noticed that I hit the punching bag regularly." 

"Hmmm…" Ben rubbed their noses together, before his lips brushed over Quinn's. "Sweaty Quinn, my favorite thing in this world." 

For that admission, Quinn had to kiss Ben, hard and lingering, his hands cupping the firm curves of Ben's butt before stroking up and down his back. Ben welcomed the deep kiss, his hands playing in Quinn's long hair. "But otherwise you're just—coping fine? A little extra exercise to deal, that's all?"

Quinn's hands cupped Ben's cheeks, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "After 18 years, you still don't realize, do you?" 

"Realize what?" 

"I have you," Quinn said, his eyes peaceful. "That's all I need to handle anything." 

That honesty required a kiss in response, this time Ben taking control, ravaging Quinn's mouth. "I love you, so much," he whispered in Quinn's ear.

"I love you." Quinn stood, and Ben gurgled with laughter as he found himself lifted, tossed over Quinn's shoulder. For a man of his age, Quinn was still strong, an always active person whose years before the camera made him extra conscious of maintaining his body. "And now I really think a practical demonstration is needed." 

"Hell, yes," Ben agreed. "You're going to fuck me?" He was supposed to be working, but right now, some stress relief seemed far more important. 

"Into the mattress," Quinn promised, carrying Ben from the woodshop and into the house, toward their bedroom, with its huge California King bed. Dropping Ben on top of the covers, Quinn immediately stripped his clothes off him, tossing them away. Ben didn't participate or fight, letting Quinn move him as he needed. 

Quinn towered over Ben on the bed, staring down at the naked body of his younger lover. "You are so gorgeous." 

With a grin, Ben settled his arms on each side of his head, placing one foot flat on the bed, spreading his thighs, wiggling his hips. "Take off your clothes and show me how gorgeous you are too." 

As if obeying, Quinn kicked his shoes away and tugged off his socks, then stopped, grabbing both of Ben's calves, lifting him bodily and flipping him over. He quickly straddled Ben's upper thighs, pinning him down. 

"Quinn!" Ben wiggled his hips again, tucking his arms under him, raising his torso so he could twist his head, looking back at the clothed Quinn. "What are you doing?" He shifted his hips, his half-erect cock rubbing on the blankets. "I want you naked and between my thighs!" 

"We have something to clear up first," Quinn said, his tone unexpectedly dry as he groped Ben's butt, his big hands massaging the well-rounded glutes. 

"Quinn, you're not—" Ben started to say, but Quinn was already raising one hand, bringing it down swiftly, his palm connecting powerfully with Ben's ass cheek. Ben's breath expelled, a long harsh sound, as the pain flared through his body, followed by a burning pleasure, every nerve alive.

"I am." Their eyes met, and Ben knew he only had to say, "No," and Quinn would roll off him and apologize. Instead, Ben relaxed his muscles, and turned back to the bed, sinking into the mattress, submission in every line of his body. 

"Talk to me when you need to," Quinn said, his voice commanding. There was a moment of silence, then Quinn's hand slapped down, spanking Ben again. "Don't feel you can't." His voice was still hard, but there was a pleading note in it. He spanked him again, and Ben had to admit that Quinn's hardness had always been a part of his appeal, even though initially it was his cock and not his hand that had attracted Ben. "Don't hide from me. Tell me your worries." 

"I didn't mean to," Ben said, his voice sounding slurred to his own ears, the pain/pleasure endorphins rushing through his senses. 

"Then don't." Quinn took a moment to massage Ben's ass, cupping and squeezing, and it felt so good, his strong hands on the overly sensitive skin. 

"Maybe another one? To be sure the point gets hammered home?" 

"Oh, there's going to be hammering," Quinn promised, just before not one but two smacks landed solidly, sending streaks of ecstatic agony racing through Ben's system. "In a bit." 

Though his cock was painfully erect, the rest of Ben's body was a puddle of melted goo, too relaxed to do anything but wait as Quinn shifted, separating Ben's legs and settling between them, yanking his hips up, his tongue probing the crevice between his red flushed cheeks. Ben sighed, enjoying the pleasure of Quinn's wet tongue tasting him, invading and stretching his hole. "Don't be a tease."

"A tease is someone who doesn't deliver, and you know I always do."

That was truth. Quinn was a man who kept his word. 

The bed shifted, Quinn pushing off it. Rolling over, Ben moaned softly as his ass hit the blanket, grateful that the fabric was nice and soft. He watched Quinn undress rapidly, marveling at how solidly the man was built, his muscles as powerful and as well-developed as when they'd first met, 18 years ago. Quinn's massive cock, a centerpiece of his fame as a porn star, was fully erect and leaking from the head. Cupping it, Quinn spread a generous helping of lube over the length, as Ben's mouth watered, anticipating how good Quinn was going to make him feel. Quinn always had been and always would be a master of sex.

The lovemaking, though regular, had become perfunctory, without Ben quite realizing it. Like all the adjustments, it had become another thing to be slotted into this new bizarre lifestyle of existing entirely in their house, separate from anyone else. They no longer had a quickie before needing to go out, because all their activities had been cancelled. Even the long, leisurely weekend mornings in bed hadn't happened, because every day seemed like both a weekend and a weekday, their life in a strange limbo. 

And clearly that had been an insane neglect to let develop, because why would anyone start feeling detached about having the Mighty Quinn as a lover?

Quinn must have felt the same, because he touched Ben as if he needed to rediscover him, his fingers and mouth exploring every inch of Ben's skin, every soft crevice, each hard bump of his body. Ben twisted and squirmed in response to Quinn's exploration, gasping and moaning. He tried to return the care and attention, because he loved Quinn's powerful body, but found himself overwhelmed, accepting the feeling of being adored. 

"Quinn!" he finally protested, rolling to the side. "It's time to deliver."

"So impatient," Quinn murmured, but he pushed Ben flat on his back and thrust an oiled finger into his hole. 

"No, go ahead. Let it burn." Quinn had already stretched him with his tongue, and Ben was too impatient for more. 

"You need to feel it, don't you?" Quinn loomed over Ben, positioning himself between his legs, and thrusting his dick into Ben's hole. 

Ben's eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sensation, that almost too full feeling that came with not enough prep, and he buried his hands in Quinn's hair. "I love being fucked by you." 

"Scream if you need to. Let it out." Quinn was a relentless powerhouse, his muscles moving like a well-oiled machine that Ben couldn't and didn't want to escape. He was pounded into the mattress, squeezing Quinn with his arms and legs, never wanting to let go. 

"Scream," Quinn repeated, and Ben obeyed, sharp, high-pitched yells torn from his throat. He'd needed this release, the fear and stress being forced from his mind. Nothing existed but this moment, Quinn's overpowering presence, Ben's desperate need, the two of them hot and sweaty and loving. 

Quinn's thrusts became shorter, faster, and Ben fell over the edge, screaming even louder, mouth open wide, as his cock spurted between their bodies, ecstasy consuming him. Good, it was always so good, coming on Quinn's big, thick cock. Ben's breath was further driven from his lungs as Quinn collapsed on him, pressing the side of his face against Ben's as he gasped and came with a groan.

"That was amazing; you're amazing," Ben slurred, stroking Quinn's hair and down his sweaty back. 

"You bring out the best in me." Quinn's white teeth nipped Ben's ear. "Always have." His muscles tensed, starting to lift himself away, but Ben held on.

"I want to stay like this forever." 

"I'm too heavy for you." Quinn rolled them, and Ben couldn't stop him, giving a small whimper of loss as Quinn's dick slipped out. 

Laying on top was almost as good, and Ben adjusted so that his head was on Quinn's broad chest. "That was what I needed." 

"Come to me when you need to scream. I'll help however you need me to. Listening, fucking. Let it out with me." 

Ben propped himself up, forearms on Quinn's chest. "I'll try to. I just—" 

"I will never think less of you or think that you're weak." Quinn's left arm rested heavily on Ben's back, fingers touching his ass, as his right hand stroked his hair. "What's the expression, it's okay to not feel okay?"

"I will try," Ben promised. "And you'll do the same?" 

"I have you," Quinn said, referencing his earlier sentiment. "But yes," he added swiftly, "I will if I need to." 

"And you'll listen to me no matter what petty and pathetic worries I have?" 

"Nothing you could ever say would be petty and pathetic to me." Quinn sighed, before he squeezed Ben's butt. "But if you're too ridiculous, I'll spank you again." 

Ben's moan was almost a whine as he laid his head back down on Quinn's chest. His big hands on the still red and sore flesh of Ben's ass sent delicious sparks through him, but even more overwhelming was Quinn's loyalty and love. Why had he doubted him? Them? "As long as I have you, I can get through this." 

"You'll always have me," Quinn promised. "Always."

~ the end ~

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs to Seaward for the support and betaing. I fussed one last time before posting, so all mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos greatly appreciated!


End file.
